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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25701220">There Will Come a Ruler</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/coconutcluster/pseuds/coconutcluster'>coconutcluster</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, aka roman is reluctant to talk about his issues, also, and virgil is a little awkward about helping but he tries his best, even more virgil comforting roman bc im a sucker, except this time theyre in character, metaphors BABEY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:28:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,540</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25701220</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/coconutcluster/pseuds/coconutcluster</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you ever worry you shouldn’t be here?”</p><p>“Worrying is kinda my job, so yeah, I’d say it’s happened once or twice.”</p><p>(a.k.a. roman being troubled and virgil being helpful (in his own way))</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anxiety | Virgil Sanders &amp; Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>125</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>There Will Come a Ruler</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Do you ever worry you shouldn’t be here?”</p><p>“Worrying is kinda my job, so yeah, I’d say it’s happened once or twice.”</p><p>Virgil’s tone isn’t malicious - it’s not even serious, his words hinting at a snicker - and he doesn’t move from his spot to glare or frown at the question, but Roman still feels himself grimace. </p><p>“Dumb question, sorry,” he says, waving a hand to finish, <em>Forget I asked</em>. He turns back to his notebook, tightening his hold on his pen and putting it to his notebook again, as if it’ll work this time and he’ll actually start writing. Just like the other ten times he’s done it, nothing comes. </p><p>He doesn’t notice Virgil watching him until the anxious Side says, “Why’d you ask?”</p><p>He looks back up to see Virgil taking off his head phones and setting down his phone - his eyes are tired, more than usual, but his frown is careful, and the look in those tired eyes is more than a little scrutinizing. It’s the closest anyone’s looked at Roman in a while. It’s the closest he’s <em>let </em>anyone look at him in a while, and the fact that it’s Virgil looking is somehow… comforting. Oddly so, but he supposes his standard for comfort has somewhat shifted as of late. </p><p>“I was just curious,” Roman says at last, and it’s a lie so weak that Virgil doesn’t even bother to raise an eyebrow. “I’ve just been thinking about it recently, that’s all.”</p><p>“Being here?”</p><p>“Yes- I mean, being…” He takes in a breath, twisting his pen as he searches for the words he needs. “Being a part of Thomas’ life. A big one.” </p><p>Virgil doesn’t say anything for a minute. “What else would you be?” </p><p>“Just… in his head, I suppose. Doing my job, nothing less.” His pens skids across the page as he twirls it, leaving an inky scratch behind, a lone, bleeding line against the paper. He stares at it and presses his lips tightly together. “Nothing more.”  </p><p>Virgil just hums in response - for a second, Roman thinks he’s agreeing with the sentiment, and despite the fact that he’s been mulling it over for weeks, that makes his eyes sting. </p><p>Then Virgil says, “So does that train of thought have anything to do with you avoiding everyone for the last two weeks?” and Roman almost wishes he’d just agreed. </p><p>“Not everyone,” he protests weakly. “I’m not avoiding you.”</p><p>“Yeah, I noticed that. As flattered as I am,” Virgil deadpans, “I’m not exactly your usual best friend.” </p><p>Roman watches him, feeling a bit like a kicked puppy, or a child caught in a lie, or maybe a pitiful combination of the two. “So?” </p><p>“So what’s up with you? Why are you suddenly stealin’ my gig as the resident hermit?” </p><p>And despite the growing pit in his stomach, that makes him snicker - Virgil smiles a little too, for what it’s worth - as he gives up on his notebook and sets it down at last to offer Virgil a shrug. “I’ve just… found myself to be more productive when working alone lately.”</p><p>Virgil does that furrowed frown of his again. “Yeah?” Roman nods. “What have you been working on?”</p><p><em>Good question</em>. “Well, there’s… I’ve- it’s nothing concrete? it’s more just ideas, I mean. I’ve had a lot of ideas.”</p><p>Virgil nods along, barely smothering a smirk as he attempts to look convinced, and raises his eyebrows when Roman finishes on a curt note. “Like what?” </p><p>“Like… what?”</p><p>“What’s one of your ideas?”</p><p>“Oh,” Roman says eloquently, because he’s a wordsmith like that. “Oh, of course. In one, there’s a, um… king.” Virgil raises his eyebrows again. “There’s a king, and he’s learning to rule the kingdom as a good leader, worthy of the people’s trust. He tries to be patient, and just, and he tries to understand what everyone needs so he can make their lives better - but the thing is, there are always people telling him different things about what would help them best. Some representatives say the lower east village needs rebuilding, but the king’s advisors tell him the money is better spent on creating a marketplace near the castle, and the citizens who come for appeals each need something of their own from him, so he’s left with too many options and no idea which is the right one for the kingdom’s wellbeing.”</p><p>“What does the king want?” Virgil asks lowly. </p><p>“He wants his people to be happy. He just wants them to be happy with their lives, and to feel like they’re making the difference they hope they are- but it feels like no matter who he listens to, it’s the wrong choice, and he’s only hurting his people worse every time he messes up.  </p><p>“After a while - after he really, <em>really </em>messes up - it feels like the kingdom has lost hope in him. He closes the palace doors to the public and takes his meals in his room, and he works and works and works to figure out how to right his wrongs. He thinks day and night about what he could do to prove himself and regain the trust and support of his people, until at last he figures, if he’s trying so hard for redemption and it still isn’t working, perhaps the issues stem from something more than his actions alone. He searches deep within himself, looking for the starry-eyed hero he once was, the person his kingdom saw long ago, the person who would know what to do in his position now and win back his people’s affections - but as he digs deeper and deeper, he starts to wonder if that person is still in him at all. He starts to wonder if he’s still the hero his people needed, or the hero they once loved.</p><p>“He starts to wonder if he should still be king. After all his mistakes, after devolving into a villain against his kingdom, he can’t be certain that he’s doing less harm by staying - so one night, he puts some things in order to make sure his people will be in better hands, and he leaves. For good.” </p><p>The living room is silent when he finishes. The rainstorm outside, which started so calming that Roman and Virgil were able to sit in comfortable silence for a good while, suddenly feels too loud, too invasive in the buzzing quiet of the apartment. Roman stares intently at the clip on his pen, fiddling with it to avoid Virgil’s eyes. </p><p>“That… doesn’t sound like a very fun story,” Virgil says at last. Roman just nods slowly - it’s a far cry from his usual tales, sorely lacking the thrill of adventure, heroic omnipotence, fantastical creatures and foes and testaments to love’s power, so he understands Virgil’s reservation. “But you wanna know what I think?”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“I think,” Virgil starts slowly, shifting on the couch to sit upright and face Roman, “that the king is one person, and it makes sense for him to be confused when a bunch of other people are telling him different things. That sounds overwhelming on its own, let alone when you’re in charge of something big and important - and when you’re overwhelmed, your decisions aren’t always… great.</p><p>“But as someone who has experience, trust me,” he adds, his mouth quirking up into a smirk, “running away and isolating yourself doesn’t help anyone, least of all yourself.” </p><p>Roman blinks at him - Virgil doesn’t falter when the prince stays silent, just stares right back - and he clears his throat, looking back down at his notebook and tugging at the spirals. “Well, I will… consider that. When writing the story. Thank you for your input.”  </p><p>He can feel Virgil’s eyes on him, even as the anxious Side leans back against the arm of the couch again. “And for what it’s worth,” Virgil says, flippant enough to make Roman glance up and meet his gaze, just for a second, “even if it seems like everyone hates him, I’m sure the king is still someone’s hero.”</p><p>And despite the urge to crush the flicker of hope in his chest, to save himself the future disappointment, Roman finds himself asking, “You think so?” </p><p>“Yeah,” Virgil says without hesitating. “But he’ll never know that if he stays in his room all day.” </p><p>Roman laughs, small and rueful as it is, and Virgil smiles with him again. “I suppose not,” he agrees, leaning back against the coffee table and focusing on his notebook once more, even though his mind is still elsewhere. The rain outside is calm again; a little bit of sun peeks through the clouds and sneaks into the living room through the blinds, giving the apartment a pretty golden glow. It’s silly, but it makes him feel somehow hopeful. </p><p>“Maybe,” he starts quietly, and Virgil glances at him with eyebrows raised, “the king can search for the good a little longer.”</p><p>“Make sure he gets out of his own head, too. It’s a dangerous place to be all the time.” </p><p>And Roman manages a smile, finally putting his pen to the paper - the stray line, alone on the page, could easily be a horizon - and letting himself relax for the first time in two weeks. </p><p>“He’ll do his best.”</p>
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